


Staking His Claim

by psychicdreamsandangelwings



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drunk Daryl is a possessive Daryl, M/M, Rick thanks that's really hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2631386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreamsandangelwings/pseuds/psychicdreamsandangelwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl Dixon is a possessive drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staking His Claim

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even sure where the hell this came from. I blame tonight's episode and my muse for taking over my brain. Speaking of tonight's episode, it was probably the best one this season, but I ain't gonna spoil nothing.

“What’s he lookin' at,” Daryl grunts, low enough so that only Rick can hear him. The two of them are seated side by side at the large table they usually use for important meetings. This time, however, it's being used for something a little different. Glenn had scored big time on their last run when he found a large supply of alcohol stashed away from prying eyes. Alcohol is something hard to come by these days, considering it's usually the first thing to get consumed by careless looters, and the fact that Glenn had found a stash this large makes everyone a little happy inside.

The group has only found booze a handful of times since their brief stay at the CDC and it's always small amounts they set aside for medical purposes only. They always try to keep a small stash hidden away from people who might take it, just in case they need to use it as disinfect or a means to dull intense pain when something bad happens, but it's hard to do. They decided to store almost all of the alcohol haul for medicinal purposes, the rest, which was only a few bottles, they're using tonight. After all, they definitely deserve it after all the shit they've been through.

It's getting colder outside and even colder in the prison despite their efforts to keep it as warm as possible. Days are hard to keep track of so no one really knows what day it is, but given the cold weather they figure it's relatively close to Christmas. In the spirit of Christmas, they'd decided to hold a Christmas celebration of their own, complete with alcohol and a decent amount of food. Beth had helped some of the younger kids make decorations that they then haphazardly hung up around the prison. Daryl had gone hunting with a few others and brought back a lot of game. They'd been able to throw random ingredients together to create some sort of stew that honestly isn't that bad. They had considered doing something similar to a secret Santa, trying to provide as normal a Christmas celebration as they could do, but had decided against it. Only a handful of their group actually go on runs and those people can't be held accountable for acquiring everyone’s gifts.

Currently most of their group is seated around the table, excluding those who either don't want to participate or are on watch. Hershel and Bob left the celebration as soon as the alcohol was brought out, too afraid of what their alcoholism would do to their self-control, and had taken the younger kids with them. Hershel and Beth agreed to keep an eye on the younger kids, including three year old Judith, and Bob and Sasha are on watch duty. There's about fifteen people crammed around the large mahogany table, all of them laughing and enjoying themselves in a way they haven't be able to do in a long time. They seldom ever get to do stuff like this, just push their worries away and indulge themselves a little, and it's liberating to watch everyone have a good time for a change.

“What’s who lookin' at,” Rick asks, confusion evident on his face. Daryl's had a fair amount to drink, something that's noticeable in the way the archer is carrying himself. Rick's never been much of a drinker and he thought it’d probably be a good idea to have at least a few able bodies sober in case something happens. He'd slid Daryl his portion of alcohol as well, which now he's beginning to regret. He's never seen Daryl act like this before, tense and angry but at the same time he's relaxed in that way intoxicated people are.

“Whatcha mean who?” Daryl says, voice rising slightly while still being low enough so that only Rick can hear. “Mister, ‘I’m so good lookin' I could turn any man gay,’ over there.”

Rick follows Daryl’s gaze until he catches sight of Bryan. Bryan is relatively new, has only been there for a month or so. Maggie and Sasha found him and his brother, Todd, holed up in a rotting Victorian home on a run a few towns over. Todd was sick, and Bryan was desperate for anything that might save his brother's life. Sasha was wary about it, not wanting to get anyone else sick, but Maggie convinced her to bring them in. They’d brought both of them back to the prison where Hershel helped Todd. He got better quickly and nobody else got sick. They're both relatively young, Bryan's in his late teens and Todd can't be any older than Carl, yet they both have seen almost as much as Rick and his crew have. Sometimes it amazes Rick how resilient the human race is.

Bryan's clearly gay and has no intentions of hiding his sexuality from anyone. He may cast lingering looks and aim snide comments at everyone as a joke, but overall he's a good guy. He's a jokester but he respects people’s boundaries and never goes further than what they are comfortable with. Everyone at the prison loves him and his brother and they both fit in well with their group. Everyone's cool with his orientation, as they are with Rick and Daryl’s relationship. There's no room for any sort of discrimination in the world they live in, no one can afford it.

“Daryl what're ya talkin' about?” Rick asks, even more confused know. As far as he can tell Bryan is focused on the conversation he's currently having with Maggie, not checking him out, but Daryl doesn't seem to feel the same way. “Bryan ain't doin' anything.”

“He keeps starin' at ya!” Daryl exclaims. “He ain't got no right to be starin' at ya, that’s my job. He can't swoop in and steal you away, not a chance.”

It takes a few seconds for Rick to process what has happened, but once he does he can't help but laugh. Daryl Dixon is jealous, there's no other way to put it, and Rick would be lying to himself if he said it didn't get him hot and bothered. Who knew possessive behavior could be so hot? “Daryl, he’s not even lookin' over here.”

“Bull shit. He’s had eyes on you since he arrived. It don't matter though, you’re mine and he can’t have ya,” Daryl scowls, so close to pouting that Rick almost laughs again, and takes another sip of his drink. "He thinks he can get what he wants simply because he's young and attractive. Fuck that, he can't have my man."

Rick figures he'd probably be angry for Daryl's actions if it wasn't such a turn on. “Oh Daryl, please. He knows he ain’t got a chance. He’s just a harmless kid, believe me. He may be a flirt but he ain’t gonna try to come between our relationship, and even if he was I'd turn him down. Plus, he could do better than me,” Rick says, resting a hand on Daryl’s knee.

“He’s been eye fucking you since this, ‘celebration,’ started and I don’ like it.” Daryl stars daggers at Bryan, who's sitting a few chairs over, obviously trying to intimidate the man who isn't even paying attention to the two of them.

Daryl had spoken loud enough this time to gain the attention of the people closest to them, including Bryan. The man looks up at the sound of an elevated voice, which is really bad timing considering the fact that it's what finally sets Daryl off.

“He ain’t yers blondie, stick yer eyes back in yer head and find yerself yer own man,” Daryl says, causing everyone’s head to turn towards him. Daryl stands up quickly, knocking the chair over in his haste, and storms out of the room.

The group’s faces are a mixture of shock and amusement, none of them expecting an outburst like that from Daryl. Rick sighs and stands up, fixing Daryl’s overturned chair. “Sorry 'bout that,” he says to Bryan, “clearly Daryl is a possessive drunk. I'll take care of it.” Rick then turns towards the door and follows after his… well, he isn't really sure what Daryl is to him, neither one of them like labels and they haven't really named their relationship yet. Even though they're basically boyfriends, that term sounds too girly and partner just sounds stupid.

Daryl hadn't gone far by the time Rick exists the room, he must have been walking slower than usual. “Come on Daryl, what are ya doin'?”

Daryl stops in the middle of the hallway and turns towards Rick. In a matter of seconds he's striding towards him, his quick gait picking up the distance between them in no time. Daryl grips a handful of Rick’s shirt and pushes him back, slamming him against the nearest portion of wall with a resonating crack. It isn't long before Daryl's lips are on his in a bruising form of domination. Daryl's pressed so hard against Rick that he can practically feel the outline of his muscles against, his arousal causing goose bumps to pop up all over his arms. Daryl threads his hand through Rick’s hair and pulls, using the force to deepen their kiss into something that definitely has him stirring.

Daryl tastes like whiskey and smells like leather, a combination that always sends blood straight to Rick’s dick. His hands, face, and clothes are dirty, but then again, so were Rick's. Rick lets out a low moan, involuntarily twitching as his arousal increases. Truth be told, if Daryl wasn't pressed so hard against him he’d probably be on his knees right now, this new sensation making him unable to stand without help.

Daryl kicks Rick’s feet apart slightly so he can slot himself between his legs, their crotches pressed flush against each other. Rick has never been so turned on in his life. Most people would be threatened by Daryl’s domineering actions, but Rick's body is hot with need. It feels like he has fire flowing through his veins, warming up parts of him he didn't even realize he had. Rick's never realized just how much a possessive Daryl could turn him on until now. His entire body is pulsing with need, turns out he doesn't mind being completely dominated. One of Daryl’s hands clamp around Rick’s hip, fingernails biting into the bare flesh there, while the other one encircles both of Rick’s wrists and holds them above his head, leaving Rick completely vulnerable to Daryl's actions. It's slightly painful but Rick couldn't care less. The roughness of Daryl's actions only heighten his arousal.

Daryl’s kiss is rough, his grip is bruising, and Rick’s back is digging into the hard concrete wall behind him. His cock is hard and pulsing, straining against his already painted on jeans, and Rick has to bite back a moan by burying his face in Daryl's neck. Rick tries to push back against Daryl, tries to do anything to further the pleasure he's feeling right now, but Daryl won't let him do anything but stand there. He presses harder against Rick to keep him in place, his touch igniting every nerve in his body. Rick's at the mercy of Daryl's hands and he can't help but let out a tiny whimper of need.

Rick isn't sure how long they stay like that, Daryl’s possessive grip keeping Rick in place, but soon enough Daryl pulls back. Rick gasps at the loss of Daryl’s touch and tries to chase him with his lips but Daryl just takes Rick’s hands, crossed them at the wrists, and splayed them over his head.

“Nobody gets to have you, especially not Victoria Secret in there,” Daryl growled. “Only me.” Daryl stakes his claim by sinking his teeth into the sensitive spot just under Rick’s ear, making the man’s legs start to shake with the ever-growing effort to remain standing.

Rick takes a few seconds to catch his breath before answering. “Yeah, yeah, I totally get that. I'm yours.” He's absolutely winded and so hard he can't focus on anything for longer than a few seconds.

“We’re goin’ back to yer cell now,” Daryl says matter-of-factly, stepping away from Rick. Rick glances down and notices he can clearly see the outline of Daryl’s cock against his jeans. Daryl gets turned on by dominating Rick just as much, if not more, than Rick gets turned on dominating him.

“Kay,” Rick says, still slightly dazed. He follows Daryl down the hall towards his cell. There's no doubt in his mind he's about to have the best sex of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> So what'd you think? That last scene literally came out of the blue, I had no intention of that happening. I suck at writing smut so I had to end it there, don't hate.
> 
> When I was writing Daryl saying, "That's my job," all I could do was think about bad lip reading's video where Daryl claimed he was the glue police. God, this is what happens when you stay up writing instead of sleeping.
> 
> Anyways let me know what you thought.


End file.
